Not So Ticklish Wendy
by ddp456
Summary: Gravity Falls favorite Wendy is tricked into a "ticklish" situation, while Dipper's worst enemy discovers his greatest secret! Based upon the deviantart piece by Wizardan. Please leave as many reviews, comments, and suggestions as you can, if you like/dislike. Re-edited and formatted for easier reading...
1. Chapter 1

Wendy Corduroy nervously walked into her job at the Mystery Shack in the woods of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Usually relaxed and care-free, Wendy had a good reason to be worried. Her best friend Tambry had scored tickets to a concert on Friday...meaning that she would miss her shift as cashier at the Shack. She couldn't ask Soos or either of the Pines twins to cover her; Friday was the start of the "busy weekend rush," (at least what would be considered _busy_ in this small town) and her boss demanded that he'd have "all hands on deck."

"Grunkle" Stan Pines was the owner of the Mystery Shack. He spent his lifetime turning his home into a tourist trap, exploiting the paranormal and filling his house with some of the weirdest (yet cheesy) objects known to man. At his surface, Stan seemed like nothing more than an egotistical, money-grabbing old coot, but Wendy knew that the elder had a soft side; this being the most apparent when he spent time with the twins, Dipper and Mabel. And besides, he was cool enough to give an inexperienced 15-year old a summertime job to earn some extra spending money. As Wendy knocked on Stan's office door, she gave herself odds of 50/50 in her favor.

"Knoc-Ock!" Wendy announced as she entered the office. Stan was sitting behind his desk, busily partaking in his favorite activity: counting the weekly income. "Huh?" he looked up at the visitor. "Oh, it's only you, Wendy..." he lowered his eyes back to his desk and resumed counting the large sum of money. "So...whatdya want, Wendy?"

Wendy began to try a different approach. "Mr. Pines," she said, crossing her arms behind her back, and rocking back and forth on her heels . "As the world's "_bestest_" boss, I think I can come to you with any problem, right?" She proceeded to give a puppy-dog-pout look to gain sympathy.

Stan didn't even gaze up at the teenager. "Sorry. That cutesy stuff may work on Soos and Dipper, especially Dipper, but not on me," he boasted. He began to pound on his chest, "There's nothing inside this old body but a stone-cold heart." "Still," he continued. "I'll give you props for trying. Next time, I recommend offering a bribe or two..."

Wendy resumed her natural posture and stood in front of Stan's desk. "Ok, I'll level with you. I really, really, really need this Friday off," she explained. "Is there anything I can do to convince you to let me off the hook?"

Stan shot up from his chair and began to shout angrily, "Uh-Uh! No way! Absolutely not! Out of the question!"

Defeated, Wendy lowered her green eyes to the ground and sighed. She turned around and began to head to her duties when Stan began again,

"However, _perhaps_ we can cut a deal..."

Wendy began to perk up and turned around to hear Stan out, again, sitting at his desk.

"Look," he continued. "I have a huge article event here at the Shack coming up in a few days, and the fact of the matter is that I really need a model for one of the displays. I tried to hire someone for the gig, but no one would settle for minimum wage and all of the Diet Pitt Cola they could drink. If you agree to help an old man out of a jam, you can have this Friday off. Whatdya say?"

Wendy was taken aback by his offer. She knew that she was pretty, but she never considered herself to be "model-pretty," like all those glossed up celebrities seen in her favorite magazines. Honestly, Wendy was secretly embarrassed that Stan thought of her to fill such a task, and yet, she felt odd about the offer. Something didn't add up...

"So," Wendy inquired. "All I have to do is stand around..."

"_Sit_ around, technically." Stan corrected.

"Cool. Sit around your display for the event, and I get my day off. No secret catches or anything like that?"

"You got it." Stan confirmed. "Do we have a deal or what?" Stan stood up and offered his hand in agreement.

Wendy hesitated for a moment, but then, shook her boss's hand.

She thanked Stan again, and ran out of the door in excitement. Stan calmly sat back down in his chair, with a mischievous grin spread across his face, and quietly began to laugh to himself.

_(a few days later)_

"Well, I shoulda seen this one coming..." Wendy sighed to herself as she was lowered into the structure. In her excitement, Wendy envisioned herself dressed elegantly in her favorite green dress and black high heels displaying Stan's new wares. She should have guessed something was amiss when he requested that she'd come dressed "as she normally was." As Wendy heard the various latches snap into place, she reflected on how she found herself in this predicament...

Earlier that day, Wendy excitedly walked into the Mystery Shack, ready to fulfil her modeling duties. Stan was waiting for her.

"Good!" he exclaimed. "You're here. Let's get down to business."

"You bet!" Wendy chirped. "So, where is this thing that I'm supposed to model?"

"Man, you must really want that day off, huh?" shot Stan. "I've never seen you this excited for work. Anyway, I have everything set up where the old Wax Museum display used to be. Follow me down the hall."

Wendy followed the old entrepreneur past the gift shop and around the corner. Stan entered the room to the left in which previously housed the old Wax exhibit. One day, the famed statues that Stan got "for a steal" simply vanished, and for some reason, no one around the house really seemed to care. Wendy thought it was strange, but why should she question it? After all, Stan was constantly changing and updating the displays, so Wendy brushed it off.

As Wendy was about to follow her boss into the new showcase, she took notice of the new signature hanging above the doorway:

"FAMED TORTURE DEVICES OF MEDIEVAL TIMES  
ENTER AT YOUR OWN PERIL!"

"Oh boy!" Wendy thought to herself. "This can't be good..."

Wendy reluctantly followed Stan into the room.

Wendy was shocked to see that within the short amount of time given, Stan and company completely renovated the entire room! The old Waxworks Stan housed were kept in a brightly lit wooden-paneled room with roped off display areas surrounding each display. 48 hours later, this was replaced with a dank, grey bricked room covered with (hopefully fake) spider webbing and a thick layer of dust. As she explored the room, Wendy studied the various restraints and torture devices that Stan had placed there from wall to wall.

"Let's see here..." Wendy thought to herself. "I see an iron maiden, shackles and fetters welded to the wall, a roller-based rack complete with a pulley and level system, and even a guillotine with a blade secured at the top (again, Wendy hoped it was fake). In front of each device, there was a small station with a camera situated at its base. Next to each camera, lied a clear container with the phrase "1 picture = $3" taped to its outside. Wendy sighed to herself, "...just like Stan..."

"Hey!" Stan shouted, interrupting Wendy's train of thought. "Come and check out your station for the day!"

Wendy turned around, behind her to the rightmost side of the room. Stan stood to her left, extended his Magic 8-Ball mounted cane towards her fate.

Stan stood next an old time pair of wooden stocks. Wendy guessed by their positioning that they were meant to hold a victim's ankles in place. The stocks were attached together at the side using some sort of metal latch. She peered behind wooden display to see a small cushion against the wall, presumably where said victim should sit. Finally, Wendy noticed a pair of manacles welded to the back wall. Wendy thought to herself, "I guess those are here to keep someone from freeing their captive feet.

After Wendy examined the crude restraints, she broke the awkward silence between herself and Stan. "Well..." she began. "What exactly do I do here?"

Stan leaned back and smiled, "It's simple, really. You model the display. You sit down. We lock you in. You look depressed, which is pretty much how you look every day at work."

Wendy recoiled back in terror. "WHAT?! ME?! IN THAT?! she exclaimed. "_Not a chance_..." she muttered as she began to storm out of the room.

"Nuh-Uh," Stan called out from behind her. "We had an agreement, missy! You walk out, now; there's no way you'll be able to go to that concert on Friday!"

"What?!" Wendy stopped in her tracks. "How did _you_ know about that?!"

Stan laughed to himself and pointed to his trademarked red fez with his cane. "They don't call me 'Mr. Mystery" just because I'm an enigma to the ladies." Wendy silently groaned to herself at this remark. He continued, "I know what's up with all of the hip young people of this town."

Wendy looked down at her muddy boots in despair.

Stan continued to explain as he approached the conflicted Wendy. "Look, kid. I'll level with you. Your friends are counting on you to make it to this concert. I need a barefoot wench I can use a display dummy for a few hours."

Wendy looked up and shot Stan an angry look for the use of the term, "dummy." Stan started again, "No offense meant. But the point is that I need you as much as you need me in this case. Plus, I'll sweeten the deal." He pointed to a small stand next to the stocks holding up an empty glass jar. "You got your own personal tip jar. Also, you have my word if any of those meddling kids you hang out with show up, I'll chase them out of here. There. A 0% chance of embarrassment."

Wendy nervously rubbed her shoulder, over thinking Stan's offer. "I...don't know..." she started. Stan cut her off, "It's like I said before: half of the time when you're working, you stand there, miserable and bored as if you're being tortured. Think about it, kid. It's the role you were born to play! So, whatdya say?"

A thin, yet uneasy smile spread on Wendy's dimpled face. "O...O...Okay. I'll do it..."

"I like your moxie, kid!" Stan bellowed excitedly. "Let's get started! "Soos!" screamed Stan, in a manner than was heard throughout the entire residence. Within seconds, the huge, yet gentle man-child came barreling into the room. He struggled to catch his breath, "Y...'wheeze'.You called, Mr. Pines?"

"Yes," Stan started to explain. "I need you to help Wendy get comfortably situated into the stocks over here." Stan used his cane to point at the restraints.

Soos hesitated for a moment, looking down at Wendy. "You..._really_ want to do this?" he asked Wendy, still somewhat uneasy about the arrangement, put on a brave face. "You got it," she sighed. "It's like Stan said; it's the role I was born to play..."

Soos shrugged his shoulders. "That's good enough for me. Hang tight, now." Using only one of his powerful arms, Soos hoisted Wendy onto his shoulder, making her exclaim aloud in shock. Gently, he carried her over to the stock display and carefully set her down on the cushion positioned behind the wooden frame. Wendy looked up at Soos as he carefully lifts her arms to meet the metal shackles on the wall behind her. She noticed that a great sadness was spread across his face, with him even wincing upon hearing the heavy SNAP sound when closing the manacles on Wendy's dainty wrists.

"Hey, Soos..." Wendy gently called to the big kid. "Don't be upset..." Despite her limited range, she waved her hands at Soos, "See, I'm okay." A calmed expression spread across his face. Besides, it's only for a few hours, right, Stan?"

Stan, staring into the distance, not even paying attention to the task at hand, woke from his daydream at Wendy's call.

"Huh?" he questioned. He looked at the distressed Soos, "Oh yeah, fella. She'll be just fine. After all, it isn't like Wendy's just gonna get up and walk away...

Both Soos and Wendy rolled their eyes at Stan's incredibly lame pun.

"Well, anyways," Stan continued on, "Sorry to ask you to do this, Soos, but in a case like this, a man of my position has to be extra careful. After all, nothing good can come from a sentence that contains the phrase, _'Stan touched Wendy_.'"

Soos chuckled to himself as he continued to strap Wendy in. He placed two straps over her jean-covered legs. "Fearful of Manly Dan, huh, Mr. Pines? Aren't we all?"

Wendy, still trying to get used to her confinement, looked up at the mention of that name. "Wait?" she questioned. "You guys heard of my father?"

Stan explained, "Yeah, you can say that. I had a _'discussion'_ with Manly Man once about a parking space. Let's just say that my shoulder still hurts every time it's about to rain..." Stan rubbed his right shoulder gently.

Wendy laughed to herself. "Nice..." She went down to ask Stan, "So, I'm guessing that's why you asked that I do this in my regular clothes rather than some skimpy outfit, right?"

Stan simply pointed to his nose. "Smart girl, smart girl...but speaking of..."

Wendy looked confused.

"Soos, I need you to relieve Wendy of her boots."

This made Wendy a bit nervous. Her mud covered boots were kinda her trademark. Besides, it wasn't like she had anything to hide. She just wasn't a 'barefoot' going person. She tried to argue with Stan, "But..."

"Sorry, my dear, but that's the thing about being a '_barefoot wench_,' you kinda need the bare feet for that to work. Besides, if you leave them on, we can't close the stocks! They wouldn't fit in the holes!"

Wendy sighed, wiggling her booted feet laid out across the bottom half of the wooden structure.

"Soos," she said defeated. "Go ahead...just be gentle."

Soos went ahead to the front of the stocks and gently grabbed her ankles. Despite using a light tug, Soos yanked Wendy's socks halfway off alongside her boots. Soos, embarrassed, looked up at the half socked feet flexing in front of him. The socks were the same green and black striped pattern as Wendy's flannel shirt. Soos carefully approached Wendy's feet.

"Do I...I mean, should I just..?" he stammered.

"Yeah, just pull them off." Wendy approved.

Very gently, Soos pinched the area of sock right above the tips of Wendy's toes. He pulled up on the plaid colored socks. The socks slid off revealing a pair of milky white bare feet. Being a gentleman, Soos took Wendy's discarded socks and placed them into her boots for safekeeping. Wendy's feet flexed at the feeling of being exposed to the cold, damp atmosphere. She looked at her wiggling toes. Since Wendy rarely went barefoot, she always left her toenails unpainted (yet, made sure they were properly trimmed and groomed).

On the other side, Soos stared at the wrinkled snow-white soles. They were literally mirror image except that Wendy's left foot had a small brown birthmark right beneath her arch.

"Wow, Wendy..." Soos stammered.

"What?" Wendy questioned. "Is something wrong down there?"

"No, no, it's just that I never expected your feet to be so...so-"

Wendy interrupted, "What? White?" Wendy shuffled her bare feet in nervous reaction. "Maybe you haven't noticed by the rest of my complexion, but I really don't tan well."

"Oh, no, dude!" Soos explained. "Actually, I was gonna say, they're really, really small. It's kinda a huge contrast when you look at your huge boots.

Wendy sat back in relief. Soos did have a point. Unlike other girls of the same height, Wendy was gifted with having tiny feet. However, Wendy chose her oversized boots as more of a comfort and style choice.

Stan became annoyed with the delay. "Alright! Alright!" he shouted. "Enough of playing "_This Little Piggy_" with Wendy. I need you to wrap it up.

Soos stood up and apologized, "Sorry, Mr. Pines." He took each of Wendy's bare ankles and carefully lined them up in the holes of the bottom half of the stocks. He went to the side of the structure, and slowly began to lower the top half of the pillory. Finally, he secured the latch on the side of the stock, locking Wendy's feet in place.

Wendy, now fully secured, tested her bonds. She turned to her left and right hands shackled to the wall and trying to slip out of the restraints. While she could wiggle freely, there was no way her wrists were slipping out. Wendy tried to lift her knees, only to be held down by the straps going across the midsection of the structure. Still struggling, Wendy attempted to slide her bare feet from the holes in the stocks. Every time she pulled her feet back, they clunked against the wood paneling. Despite having smaller-than-normal feet, Wendy was unable to yank her toosties out of this trap.

Stan was right; she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Stan laughed at Wendy's predicament, "HA! Perfect! Well, kid. We have to get ready for the crowds coming soon." Soos took one more look at the helpless girl, then left to help prepare the Shack. Stan approached the redhead stuck in the stock,

"Look, if you need anything, here's something that you use to let us know." He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a miniature bell. He placed it on the top of the stock holding Wendy's feet in place. "Just ring if you need-"

Stan stopped himself after remembering Wendy's situation, ending with Wendy shooting him a nasty look.

"Oh, right..." he corrected himself. "You...can't use...your hands. Sorry! My mistake..." Stan reached back and removed the bell.

"Well, just yell like crazy, and we should hear you, hopefully." He wished Wendy 'Good Luck' and began to leave.

Wendy thought to herself, still fidgeting with her arm restraints, "Well, at least when Stan's gone, I can try to free my hands. That way, I can release the straps and latch and get out of this thing."

As Wendy continued on trying to free herself, Stan came back.

"Sorry, I forgot about something." he said, reaching once again into his tuxedo pockets. Wendy squinted to try to make out the object. Stan went to the latch holding the ankle stocks together and bent down, just out of Wendy's perspective. As she struggled to see the object, she shuddered when she heard a loud CLICK. Wendy already knew what had happened, but she still asked Stan just to confirm her fears.

"Hey, Stan? What was that loud clicking sound?"

"Oh, that! It's just a heavy duty padlock securing the latch here. Remember, Wendy, realism _is_ key! Besides, we wouldn't want you to be let out of your deal too early."

Defeated, Wendy sunk back into her prison. What was she going to do now?


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours later, the new exhibit (with Wendy stocked in tow) was filled with tons of tourists interested in seeing how mankind brutally tortured each other throughout various generations. Wendy watched from a distance how so many people spent valuable time and money waiting in a huge line, just to take a cheesy picture of themselves wearing phony chains or 'almost' getting their heads cut off. If they only knew Wendy's situation was real...

Wendy sat back in her restraints, looking over the crowded room. Suddenly, Wendy felt something brushed past the bottoms of her bare feet. Wendy struggled to pull herself up. From the way that she was situated in the pillory, Wendy was unable to see past the wood paneling holding her in place nor directly below it. This was the 'unteempth' time that something just mysteriously made contact with her captive soles. The truly odd thing was that she noticed that the more she had these 'instances,' the more her tip jar increased.

"Thankfully," Wendy thought to herself, "My feet really aren't ticklish." But still, the feeling felt strange; she didn't like the idea that someone could mess with her, and she couldn't even see _who or what_ did it. "Oh well," Wendy sighed to herself. "It could be a lot worse than getting my feet poked at; they could do it Puritan style and throw rotten eggs and fruit at me. Besides, no one's even laughed at me...yet."

A few moments, and despair set back in for Wendy. There was no clock in this room of the Mystery Shack, and with her arms tied, she wasn't able to see her wristwatch. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out to Wendy:

"Hey! Down here!"

Wendy twisted and turned her body to try to see over the stocks, but couldn't see her visitor. Wendy shouted blindly, "I can't see you! Come around to the side!"

Wendy looked to her left and right until she found a familiar face. On her right side, there stood one of her smallest friends, Mabel Pines. Mabel (along with her twin brother, Dipper) were the great niece/nephew of Stan. Despite being younger than her, the twins always seemed to bring a smile to Wendy's face. They were a great help around the Shack, and always seemed to be in the midst of some great adventure. With them around, Wendy's boredom around the Shack greatly disappeared. Wendy also adored how despite being loving and caring siblings, how each twin was completely different from one another.

Mabel had to be one of the silliest girls Wendy had ever come across, but, this was not an insult towards Mabel's character. As Mabel proclaimed herself, she had '_embraced the Silliness_,' leading to an infinite amount of creativity, imagination, heart, hope, and whimsy. Wendy only wished that she could have had that kind of world perspective at age 12.

Dipper, however, was the complete opposite, and yet, Wendy had never met anyone in her life quite like Dipper. For a boy of only 12 years old, he was incredibly intelligent, brave, and loyal to a fault. When talking to Dipper, it was almost like talking to a small adult. Unlike any other boy she had ever known, Dipper was always cautious to Wendy's feelings, and never said anything hurtful or ignorant (unless accidentally by being nervous). For some reason that Wendy couldn't put her finger on, it always seemed like Dipper carried a terrible secret while in her presence. Many times, Wendy wondered to herself about what type of _burden_ could such a sweet guy carry around?

Wendy turned her attention towards her pint-size visitor. Honestly, Wendy was super-embarrassed by her situation; she hadn't even thought of what would happen if the twins saw her like this. However, Wendy tried to play it cool.

"Hey, squirt. Howya doing?"

"WHOA!" Mabel exclaimed, looking and prodding at the structure holding Wendy captive. "What happened to you? Did you get caught stealing from the till or what?!"

Wendy giggled at Mabel's words, despite her current surroundings. "Nah," Wendy explained. She then began to tell Mabel the story of how she was tricked into the stocks for the event.

"WMOP!" Mabel cried out, blowing a raspberry. She excitedly threw her arms in the air in outrage, "THAT STINKS!" she continued. "Did you want me to try to break you out?" Mabel started to pull and tug on the wooden pillory, with it not even budging one inch.

"Easy, tiger!" Wendy attempted to calm the raging pre-teen. "I just gotta sit this one out in solitary, but maybe you can help out. Do you know what time it is?"

Mabel stretched out her arm, pulling back her dark pink sweater. "Hmmmm..." she mumbled. "Ahhh...2:30?"

Wendy groaned in frustration. "Oh, man! Three and a half more hours of this?!" She kicked her stocked feet so hard, she could hear the padlock on the side rattling. She whined to Mabel, "THIS. IS. SOOOOOOO. BORING!"

Mabel put her little hand up to her chin, and became deep in thought. After a few seconds, Mabel bounced up with energy.

"I GOT IT!"

Wendy looked curiously at Mabel, plotting away deviously.

Mabel came around the corner and whispered to Wendy.

"Do you want to see me freak Dipper out?"

Wendy bent down as much as her restraints would let her, and asked, "How are you going to do that?" At heart, even though she was bored out of her mind, the last person she wanted to tease (or even hurt) was Dipper. Wendy tried to stop Mabel,

"Maybe we shouldn't-"

"Oh, it'll be okay. It's not a big deal. He's just sitting upstairs reading like a big nerd."

With that, Mabel spun around and headed for the exit. Wendy, still stuck in place, called out to Mabel:

"MABEL, WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?"

Despite all the background noise of the other customers, Wendy perfectly heard the shouts of Mabel to her twin brother residing overhead:

"DIPPER, COME QUICK!

"IT'S WENDY, DIPPER, SHE'S IN TROUBLE!"

"THEY GOT HER, DIPPER! THEY'RE HOLDING HER PRISONER!

"YOU'VE GOT TO SAVE HER, DIPPER!"

"Ohhhhh noooooo!" Wendy thought to herself. It's not to say that it wasn't pretty funny, but this wasn't going to end well, especially for poor Dipper.

Sure enough, in less than a millisecond, Wendy heard the biggest and loudest "WWWHHHHHAATTTTTTT!" she had ever heard in her life. Shortly after came the pounding of little feet from upstairs, to the staircase, and shortly down the hall. Wendy heard Mabel again:

"THERE, DIPPER! SHE'S IN THERE!

Even though see couldn't see him, Wendy could hear Dipper rushing through the crowds, and crying out for her:

"WENDY?! I'M HERE! (_excuse me_)

"WHERE ARE YOU? (_pardon me_)

"WENDY?!" (_please let me through_)

"ARE YOU OKAY?" (_out of my way!_)

As the voice grew closer, Wendy could see the parting of the crowds, as if someone was pushing everyone out of the way.

Hoping to calm him down (while trying not to laugh) Wendy called out to him, "DIPPER! I'M OVER HERE!"

"WENDY! DON'T WORRY, I'M COMING!"

The voice came closer, and even though she couldn't see him, (as in Mabel's case) Wendy could easily make out the tip of his trademark blue and white cap.

"Dipper!" she exclaimed. "Right here, along the side of the display!"

She turned to her right to see the second half of the Pines twins, Dipper, frantically looking high and low for the source of his crush's voice. He looked up and part of him relaxed upon seeing her green eyes.

"Wendy!" he sighed in relief. "_You're alright_!" Standing on his tip-toes, he reached up and hugged Wendy. Though Wendy felt the warmth of the young boy's embrace, she felt like total garbage for finding even a bit of humor in the instance. She felt even worse when she realized she couldn't even comfort him or return his hug due to her bound hands.

She tried to calm him again, before he made a bigger scene, "Dipper..." This made the small pre-teen look up from Wendy's torso, and in horror, he analyzed her confinement. He started to become riled up again:

"WENDY! WHAT HAPPENED? WHO DID THIS TO YOU?"

Wendy tried again to comfort Dipper. Outlookers were beginning to stare.

"Dipper! Wait a sec-"

"IT'S OKAY, WENDY! I'LL SAVE YOU!"

"Dipper! Please listen!"

Dipper had disappeared from Wendy's view; only seconds later, she heard strained groans and grunts coming from the front of the stock display. Wendy felt someone try to pry open the wooden boards holding her feet...only to do so to no prevail.

She then heard something pounding on the padlock holding the stocks shut. Again, she heard angry grunts, followed by a small voice whispering, "Ow...ow...ow..." almost in rhythm with the metallic pounding. Wendy watched as the small blue hat tip bobbed up and down just outside her view.

Defeated, Dipper ran along the stocks and looked up at Wendy. "Don't worry, Wendy..." he explained. "I...I...I'll find a way to get you free. Maybe if I can find a crowbar or something to break this thing..."

"DIPPER!" Wendy interrupted. She had to stop this; behind him, people were starting to laugh and point. Maybe they thought it was some sort of performance piece or something like that.

"Dipper..." she ordered in a low, grim, but serious tone. _"Look at me_..." His strong brown eyes again met her dark green ones.

"You need to listen carefully. I am _not_ in danger. I am _not_ being held captive. I am in this 'thing' of my own free will. It was the only way your "Grunkle" would give me the day off on Friday. I promise; _everything is all right_."

Dipper, nodding along with every line she said, slowly began to realize what happened. His nervousness and excitement quickly turned to dread and regret as he turned around to see small groups of people snickering and making fun. Their taunts echoed in the back of his mind:

"Oh, how adorable!"

"What a dork!"

"Hey kid, at least your princess isn't in another castle! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Humiliated, Dipper turned back around to face Wendy. Her green eyes changed from dead serious to that of softer and more sympathetic.

After an awkward silence between the two, Dipper tried to stutter out some sort of response:

"Wendy...I'm sorry-

I...I don't understand-

Mabel said you were-

Everyone said that they didn't see you all day-

I was worried-

I thought that…oh, man..."

Dipper hung his head in shame, his cap covering his face. He had not only made a total fool out of himself, but she also managed to drag Wendy into it.

Wendy felt terrible. He _REALLY_ did believe she was in trouble, and more so, leaped up in an instance's notice to 'save' her. Wendy thought of the action as sweet; after all, she just discovered she had her own personal '_little hero_."

She broke the silence. "Dipper, I'm so sorry. It's just that, I was super, super bored. And then, Mabel came by, and she asked me if I wanted to do something fun, and-"

Dipper jumped in, "Wait, WHAT?! YOU were in on it?!

Wendy looked down in shame, "Yes...I mean not really...I mean, I told Mabel not to!"

At this point, Dipper felt a hard slap on his back. He turned around to see the bright-red, giggling face of his twin sister. Mabel acted like nothing had happened. "What's up, Broseph?" she greeted him.

Dipper returned an angry stare.

"What?!" Mabel exclaimed. "Don't be mad," she said, punching his shoulder gently. "You have to admit, it's kinda funny..."

She turned her attention to the bound redhead sitting next to her, "Right, Wendy?"

Wendy looked down, and slightly giggled, "Yeah, a little bit..."

Dipper sunk even lower. It was bad enough that he was laughed at by both the visitors and Mabel, but to have Wendy poke fun, too...

Still, Dipper decided to play it cool.

"Ok. Yeah, right. Funny! HAHA!"

He stepped up to face Wendy again.

"Sorry I overreacted, Wendy... Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Wendy felt her heart break. She had (accidentally) helped make a fool out of Dipper, and yet, here he was, humbled, and even willing to try to make attends for something that WASN'T even his fault. However, Wendy didn't want to upset the pre-teen even more, so she kept cool-headed:

"No worries, dork! Tell you what? How about you contribute to my tip jar over there?" Wendy used her head to motion towards the halfway filled glass jar sitting on the stand next to the pillory. Dipper and Mabel went out to the front of the stocks. The first time through, Dipper totally missed the dangling pair of milky white bare feet at the front of the display.

This kinda shocked Dipper, for every memory of Wendy had her donning her mud-covered pair of lumberjack boots. "Wow, Wendy." he exclaimed. "You really have some small feet. I guess the boots hide it well, huh?"

Wendy chuckled to herself, "Yeah, I guess so..." Never before had she so many people compliment her peds. It was kinda nice.

Dipper turned his attention to Wendy's tip jar, when he noticed the suggestion note attached to the base. Dipper had to re-read it just to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

"Uh, Wendy?" Dipper called to her. "Are you sure that you _REALLY_ want me to contribute to the tip jar?"

"Huh?" Wendy seems confused by his question. "Of course, man! Don't hold back!"

Mabel, curious by these off-remarks, came over to Dipper's side and read the note under the jar as well. She recoiled afterwards.

"Oh, Dipper, no!" Mabel cried. "We had a truce over this, remember?"

"Wrong." Dipper corrected. "_YOU and I_ had a truce. Besides, Wendy said she _WANTS_ me to 'tip' her.

Mabel looked on in disappointment.

"Hey!" Dipper shouted. "You wanted to make Wendy laugh. Now, it's _my_ turn!"

From the distance, Wendy really couldn't make out what the twins were whispering about. She watched as Dipper reached up and threw a dollar or two into her tip jar.

"Ohhhhhh!" Wendy thought to herself. "What a sweetheart!" She knew that Dipper didn't make a lot of cash around the Shack, so she truly appreciated even the smallest effort from him.

Suddenly, the twins disappeared in front of the stock, where Wendy couldn't see. The only thing that she could make out, once again, was the faint blue tip of Dipper's cap.

"Hey, guys?!" Wendy called out. "Where'd ya go?"

"We're still here, Wendy!" Dipper shouted back. "But, I have a really important question to ask you..."

"Yeah, Dipper?"

"Wendy...Are...You...TICKLISH?"

With that, Wendy suddenly felt the presence of 8 little digits exploring the bottoms of her bare feet. At first, Wendy jerked her feet back, only to be stopped by the wooden frame. The feeling was definitely strange, but at the same time, it didn't make her want to laugh or giggle, or even flex in response. She felt Dipper drag his fingers across both soles, beneath her arches, under the bases of all 8 of her toes, and against her heels. He even tried the lone birthmark on her left foot.

While still tickling the captive pair of feet, Dipper peeked his head along the side of the stocks, expecting to see Wendy giggling and smiling, Dipper was shocked to find only the complete opposite.

Wendy sat nonchalantly behind the pillory, her back against the wall (due to the restrictions of the handcuffs), with her green eyes lowered and a huge frown on her freckled face.

"Dude, _REALLY_?" Wendy called out. "Kinda weak revenge, there, Dipper!"

Dipper stopped and walked back to the side to see Wendy.

"What?! That didn't tickle at all?" Dipper quizzed her. "But, I gave you my A-game!"

Wendy laughed heartedly in defiance, wiggling her feet bound in the stock. "Sorry, kiddo. I'm made of tougher stuff. Thanks for the tip though..."

She continued to laugh, with Mabel shortly joining in.

Dipper was still flabbergasted. "But I...I mean...How...How did you..."

He stopped, lowered his head, and muttered. "This isn't over..."

He turned around and walked out the exit, the girls' laughter following behind him.

Wendy sighed and addressed Mabel, still standing by her side. "Oh, man! What was that about?"

"Well..." Mabel started to explain. "I know it seemed odd, but Dipper was just following the suggestion on your tip-pee thingie."

"Huh?" Wendy questioned. "What thingie?"

Mabel left Wendy's side and ran to the tip jar display. She came back carrying a banner. She held it in front of Wendy's face as she explained, "This was mounted beneath your tip jar..."

Wendy lowered her eyes to the banner displayed. It read:

_"$1 TO TICKLE THE WENCH'S FEET!"_

"Cute, Stan..." Wendy thought to herself. "Real cute."

This would explain the coincidence between the growth of her tip jar and the 'weird feelings' she felt on her bare feet. After all, Wendy couldn't see over the edge of the wooden frame, leaving her foot bottoms exposed without knowing who or what passed them.

Relieved, Wendy told Mabel, "Well, that explains a lot. That shows that Dipper wasn't being a complete weirdo; I guess that means we _can_ still be friends."

"HA!" Mabel laughed at Wendy's sarcasm, and again, the girls shared a variety of laughs and snickers.

"Yeah, but then again, Dipper kinda takes it seriously..." Mabel leaned closer to the bound teenager, and whispered, "As little kids, Dipper kinda crafted himself to a master tickler. It actually became so bad that a few years ago, we had to call a truce. We can't even mention the "_T_" word in our house."

"Oh, really?" Wendy raised an eyebrow, giggling at the thought of Dipper having a dark side.

Mabel continued on, "Well, I don't mean to change the subject..." Mabel went back to the front of the stocks. Wendy watched the young girl disappear, only to be replaced by a high-pitched voice coming past the wooden frame.

"I noticed something about your feet..."

Wendy cut her off, "Oh, let me guess, I have been at this all day; super small, as white as silk?"

"Yeah," Mabel hesitated. "But actually, I noticed your nails..." Wendy could feel Mabel fidgeting with her big toes, examining them. "When was the last time you had a GREAT pedicure?"

Wendy rolled her eyes and began to think. After a second or two, she responded, "Ummmm...I couldn't tell ya, kid. You see, this is probably the longest I have been barefoot in a very long time..."

Mabel felt that Wendy was leaving something out from her story, but decided to ignore her inquiries.

"Well," Mabel started again, "While you're waiting out the clock here, I can give you the world's best pedicure!" Mabel bounced back to meet Wendy face-to-face. "I even have the perfect plaid toenail polish, just for you!" Mabel's eyes beamed as she went into further detail. "It would match your flannels perfectly!"

Once more, Wendy felt incredibly odd about someone going over one of her least favorite features, but then again, how could she say no to the bright-eyed, little pie face glaring up at her?

"You know what; that's actually sound great!" "Besides," Wendy explained, demonstrating her restrained limbs, "even if I wanted to, I really couldn't stop you from doing so, so what the hey?"

Mabel let out a loud, excited squeal! She started to walk away, shouting, "Don't worry, Wendy! I'll be back in a while! I have to get my crafts!"

Wendy shouted after her, "Just be careful!" Mabel quickly disappeared from view.

Wendy slumped back in her seat, sighing to herself. "Those are two great kids; CRAZY, but great.

Little did anyone realize that in the background, an old enemy was waiting for his time to strike. He spent his day observing the events that recently took place, and licked his lips as he plotted to use Wendy's situation to his advantage...


	3. Chapter 3

_(Earlier that day)_

"Curse that Pines Family!" a chubby 9 year old with incredibly tall blondish white hair screamed as he entered the clearing from the woods leading to the Mystery Shack.

"Curse Stan! "Curse Dipper! But _especially_ Dipper!" the young psychic prodigy known as Lil' Gideon muttered to himself.

Gideon longed for the secrets than the elder Pines hid in his establishment. With such things at his control, the rotten child could easily rule over the quiet folk of Gravity Falls. Maybe, one day, even the tri-state area! However, he cringed at the thought of young Dipper Pines. As long as Dipper remained valiant in foiling his evil deeds, Gideon would never succeed in taking the Mystery Shack from Stanford Pines (nor would he regain a shot at dating his great-niece, Mabel)

This was the goal of today's 'recon' mission, as Gideon called it. He had finally realized his mistake. He had spent his time trying to find out Stan's weakness, when it was Dipper he should have concentrated on. As Gideon stated time and time again: _everyone has their weak point_. He only had to discover Dipper's to win this family feud.

He also had chosen to ditch his standard blue tuxedo outfit in lieu of a baby blue hoodie, blue sweats, and cheap white sneakers. Gideon went incognito to blend in with what he considered to be "the filthy moguls of this white-bread town." As he approached the ticket stand, Gideon pulled the blue hoodie over his head to help conceal his identity (luckily for him, no one noticed the huge extension on top his head).

He quickly snuck past _'the old fool'_ Stan Pines, pathetically trying to hustle his wares on unsuspecting travelers, and patiently stood in line for the new exhibit.

"Perfect..." the evil, yet short mastermind thought to himself. "All I have to do is wait, and hopefully, the answers I seek will fall straight into my hands..." He began to snicker in a devilish tone, but stopped when he realized it could ruin his blending in...

A few minutes later, Gideon (still in incognito) was exploring the new attraction among dozens of visitors. He looked with great disgust (and even a bit of pity) at the fools standing in line, just to take a picture along a bunch of fake props. As he turned his sights to the right side of the room, he noticed something different from all the other displays.

On the rightmost side of the room sat a tall, lanky redheaded girl wearing something that resembled a lumberjack's outfit. Her wrists were restrained with metal shackles attached to the brick wall behind her. Her long legs were strapped down across the wooden structure, to which the girl's bare feet were padlocked into a pillory at the front end.

"Poor, foolish girl..." pitied Gideon. "Stan must have caught this young thing stealing from the till..."

Gideon's thoughts stopped in fraction when he saw where the captive girl's dark green eyes focused on. To the side of her stood the _apple of Gideon's eye_, Mabel Pines. He watched in silent awe as Mabel and the redheaded teen chatted back and forth, and even laughing loudly among one another.

"Who..." Gideon pondered, "…is that tall ginger beauty?" He had never seen her at the Mystery Shack before? Was she a friend of Mabel's?

All of a sudden, Mabel leaned over to the imprisoned girl, and suddenly, her expression changed from a dimpled smile to that of worry and concern. Mabel sprinted away, leaving the redhead, still unable to move, shouting out after her.

"Oh? Now what's this then?" Gideon questioned, watching the scene with great curiosity.

His questions would quickly be answered as he (as well as everyone in the room) heard Mabel's screams throughout the house:

"DIPPER, COME QUICK!

"IT'S WENDY, DIPPER, SHE'S IN TROUBLE!"

"THEY GOT HER, DIPPER! THEY'RE HOLDING HER PRISONER!

"YOU'VE GOT TO SAVE HER, DIPPER!"

Gideon turned his head to the exit as he listened to the biggest and loudest "WWWHHHHHAATTTTTTT!" he had ever heard in his life. Rapid, yet loud banging came from the top floor of the house, to the outside hall, to the entrance of the exhibit.

He watched as his greatest archenemy, Dipper Pines, pushed his away past crowds of people, running back and forth, in search of someone. He listened to his rival's shouts over the crowd's banter:

"WENDY?! I'M HERE! (_excuse me_)

"WHERE ARE YOU? (_pardon me_)

"WENDY?!" (_please let me through_)

"ARE YOU OKAY?" (_out of my way_)

"Wendy?!" Gideon asked himself. "Now, just _who_ is that?" Never before had he seen the Pines boy like this; in a state of pure fright and terror. Gideon hadn't even seen this behavior in times when he threatened the boy with a violent outcome. As Gideon thought about the sight set before his eyes, another cry went through the room:

"DIPPER! I'M OVER HERE!"

Gideon's attention went back over to the right side of the room. Gideon studied as Dipper ran towards the redheaded teen still trapped in the pillory prison. He observed how the terrified expression on Dipper's face vanished upon embracing the stocked girl. He also noticed how their world seemed to melt together when his soft brown eyes met her green ones.

Gideon began to chuckle to himself. "_Wendy_..." He had _finally_ found his answer.

"How could I have been so blind?" he asked himself. "I had forgotten one of life's greatest lessons: the cunning warrior attacks neither body nor mind, but the '_heart_.'" Hiding in the background, Gideon watched as Dipper failed to free Wendy from her confinement, as well as try unsuccessfully to apply tickle torture to the teenage girl. He thought to himself, "Really? I lose to THIS every time? Really?" He also eavesdropped on Mabel's promise to give Wendy a relaxing pedicure, and shortly after, seen Mabel bounce out of the room.

An evil plan began to formulate in Gideon's wicked mind. The teenage girl was finally alone, and in a perfect position to be used as a bargaining chip to hang over Dipper's head. But he had to act soon; she wasn't going to be left alone forever...

Within a few moments, the disguised psychic snuck out the "family only" exit of the Mystery Shack, and headed down the road towards his home, located right next to his idiot father's used car lot. He rushed into his room, and accessed the secret compartment in his desk drawers that led to his secret magical tome, simply labeled #2, along with a variety of mystical items. Gideon looked upon a row of bottles and pulled out a clear, yet thin solution.

"Oh, this should do the trick." he thought to himself. "After all, it worked wonders on all those ignorant worms at the salon. Three months later, and they're STILL in the insane asylum!"

Gideon manically laughed to himself, as he pulled out a piece of paper, and quickly dictated a ransom note to Dipper. He headed out the door, and back down the road to the Mystery Shack...

Within minutes, Gideon (with hoodie pulled back up) was back at the Shack. He swiftly snuck back in through the family room entrance (he had kept the door open by placing a rock in between a crack) and zoomed back into the exhibit.

Gideon looked around for either of the twins. Luckily for him, the captive redheaded damsel was still there, looking more bored than ever...

Gideon bent down in front of the stocks (to ensure Wendy had no clue who was there with her), pulled out a pair of latex gloves, and began to apply the strange solution to Wendy's bare feet, held in place in front of him.

Wendy was shocked out of her bored state of mind with the feeling of something ice-cold on her soles. She called out to her visitor, "Mabel, is that you?"

Gideon began to chuckle wickedly to himself, knowing that his plan was unfolding perfectly, and there wasn't anything Dipper could do to stop him this time.

Due to the distance, all Wendy heard was a child's laughter, so she shrugged it off and presumed all was well. Even though she wouldn't admit it, Wendy was totally comforted as she felt every inch of her peds being coated and massaged with some sort of skin softener.

Wendy again tried calling out to her visitor, "Hey kiddo, I don't know what this stuff is, but it feels GREAT!"

On the other hand, Gideon despised his actions. He hated the idea of lowering himself to this: rubbing another person's feet, but he told himself to play through the pain. After all, by exploiting the gullibility of this naïve girl, he would be able to force Dipper into a checkmate. After a few minutes, Gideon looked up and admired his handy work. The feet laid out in front of him glistened from the tips of the toes to the bottoms of the heels.

"Good..." Gideon chuckled. "The trap is set. All I do now is _wait_..."

Wendy came back around from zoning out as she felt the gentle hands leave her feet, "Hey! Little guy! Where'd ya go?!"

Wendy looked around and seen that the crowd had greatly declined. "Good." she thought to herself. "That's means that this nightmare is almost over!"

Wendy didn't see the short, blue hooded villain head out the door, laughing to himself. Ironically, Dipper walked right past him, and with evil laugh and all, didn't recognize his worst enemy nor the horrific fate he had left his loved one to...

As a final measure, Gideon ran up the staircase at the front door and quickly noticed a door marked with an adorable label, stating, "Dipper and Mabel." He bent down, and slid the ransom note he created earlier into an envelope, and under the door.

Looking both ways, he ran back down the stairs, and through the front door one last time. He walked down the road, leaving Wendy to a terrible fate. He started to laugh to himself, expecting Dipper's surrender any minute now. As he said before,

"All I do now is wait..."

Upstairs, Mabel was still locked away in the upstairs room, preparing the necessities for the best pedicure ever for Wendy. She really didn't get that many chances to do girly stuff with other girls, but when Wendy agreed, Mabel was more than happy to oblige. Mabel suddenly turned around (thinking that she heard something outside) to find a sealed envelope, addressed to someone named "BOY." Mabel stared at the envelope, thought about it, and said, "WMOP!" tossing the item aside.

"Well, I don't know anyone named BOY, so..."

She turned back around and continued to gather items to do a proper job for Wendy. The envelope flew across the room, only to wind up under Dipper's bed. If only Mabel was curious enough to open the note, she would have found the message left by Gideon:

"TO DIPPER PINES,"

YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SUBMIT TO MY WILL, FOR I HAVE FOUND OUT "YOUR" GREATEST SECRET!

IF YOU WANT TO SAVE THE SANITY AND WELL-BEING OF YOUR PRECIOUS WENDY, YOU WILL SURRENDER THE DEED TO THE MYSTERY SHACK!

DON'T WAIT TOO LONG, BOY! REMEMBER, THE LONGER YOU DELAY, THE WORST SHE'LL GET!

TIME IS TICKING AWAY!

SINCERELY YOURS,

G.C.G"

Back in the exhibit, Dipper, filled with confidence, walked back to the still immobilized Wendy. Wendy looked down at the little man approaching her from the side, noticing a new demeanor in his eyes.

"Hey there." she called. "You still peeved from before?"

"What?" Dipper responded. "Oh, no. No. No. Actually..." he started, coming a bit closer to Wendy. "I wanted to know if I can get a rematch?" He then pointed at Wendy's tip jar.

She lowered her eyes to meet his. "Dude, didn't you learn ANYTHING from last time? I _just_ can't be beaten..."

Dipper cut off Wendy's bragging, "Ah, Ah, true, but this time, I have a secret weapon..."

Wendy raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "Oh, really? she laughed at the 12 year old. "Tell me, what is it?"

With a smile on his face, Dipper reached into his blue vest pocket and pulled out a huge, stiff, white feather."

"Whoa!" exclaimed Wendy. "It's _ginormous_! Where did you swipe that from?"

Dipper answered, "The gift shop. So, what do you say..." he teased, taking the feather and slightly brushing her nose with it, "Still feeling brave?"

The dusty quill feather under her nose made Wendy sneeze in an incredibly quiet, yet cute way.

"HA!" exclaimed Dipper. "You sneeze like a kitten!" He now understood why people gave him grief for his same style of sneezing...

Feeling challenged, Wendy had NO intention of running away from a duel. "You, young sir, are _on_" Wendy downtalked to her opponent. She continued to tease her challenger, "Just remember, Dipper. It's not my fault if you lose all of your money to my tip jar; but then again, I need some extra scratch for the concert. Maybe to grab a T-Shirt or two..." She returned the same devilish grin he gave her.

Dipper turned around and went over to the tip jar. He turned to Wendy, making sure she could see his action. "Let's make this interesting..." He pulled out a five dollar bill and held up above the opening on the jar.

"Ooooooh." Wendy taunted the boy, "C'mon, big spender!"

Dipper threw the bill into the jar, and moved once again, in front of the stocks holding Wendy at a standstill, vanishing from Wendy's perspective.

Wendy called out to him from behind the display, "Hey Dipper, do me a favor! Let me know when you start, so I can fake acting surprised!" Wendy watched at the last few customers left the museum. She then closed her eyes and leaned back to relax.

As Dipper faced the captive soles one more time, he noticed something strange about them. This time around, Wendy's feet seemed to be super shiny for some reason. He was going to ask Wendy about it, but he didn't want Wendy to think him stranger than usual.

He placed the quill feather against the bottoms of his crush's feet. He closed his eyes, and thought "Here we go!"

As Dipper stroked Wendy's right sole, a shot of electricity surged through Wendy's body. Her eyes sprung open, and her entire frame reflexed!

"WHOA!" Wendy shouted. "What the heck was _that_?"

Dipper turned the corner to see that he had successfully wiped the smirk from Wendy's face. He continued to drag the stiff feather up and down every inch of Wendy's feet, making them spasm with even the littlest touch.

On the other end, Wendy was freaking out! She closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to restrain herself. She kicked her feet wildly, hearing them bang on the wooden panels trapping them in place. The solid wood frame even started to chafe her unprotected ankles. "Curse you, Stan!" Wendy thought to herself, "Only _you_ would cheap out on padding for this thing!"

Dipper looked back at Wendy. She sat her face up scrunched up and her body jerking in ticklish response. Dipper became conflicted; he felt terrible that he was literally torturing the love of his life, but then again, it felt _so good_ being right.

Dipper, knowing he had the upper hand, began to tease his crush, whom was fighting herself to keep a cool head.

"WEN-DY!" Dipper sang to her. Wendy opened her eyes slightly to see the smiling pre-teen. Dipper continued while operating his feather, "WEN-DY! I want to hear that beautiful laugh!"

Wendy, using all of her strength, managed to release a strong, but quiet, "No..."

Dipper, still being playful, taunted her again, "WEN-DY! I guess I'm going to floss your toes with the feather!"

Wendy's eyes opened wide at the threat. "Dipper...wait!" she managed to cough out.

Perhaps taking too much pleasure in this, Dipper carefully held the feather with both hands and placed it between the big and index toe on her right foot. Slowly, he dragged the quill feather between the crease.

Once again, Wendy's bare feet attempted to free themselves from Dipper's range to no prevail. Wendy was kicking so hard, she could hear the padlock holding her captive banging against the wood paneling.

As Dipper started between her second and third toe, Wendy couldn't help but let out a small guffaw. Dipper's ears opened in excitement. When he moved down to her pinky toe, the small guffaws became louder giggles.

"Almost there..." Dipper thought to himself.

Dipper pulled the feather away and placed it on the toes of Wendy's left foot. Within seconds, the giggles became hysterical laughter. Even though this was a cruel way to do so, Dipper did love hearing Wendy's laugh.

Dipper looked again to see how Wendy was holding up. Wendy sat, still pulling on her trapped arms and legs, with tears pouring down her cheeks. She had moved around so much, the custom trapper hat that usually sat upon Wendy's head, had fallen to the ground, revealing a crown of gorgeous red hair.

Dipper hesitated for a moment, holding the fluffy feather at bay. Dipper peeked his head over to Wendy, ready to ease up.

"Had enough, yet?"

He gave Wendy a few minutes to catch her breath. The usually pasty complexion that Wendy was known for was replaced with one that was beet red. Her body was sore from struggling against the restraints. Wendy huffed and puffed, trying to return to a regular rate of breathing. She opened her eyes to see the young boy's face, simply offering a cute, yet arrogant smirk.

Despite everything, Wendy couldn't hate Dipper for this. She kinda started it by pranking him earlier (even though it WAS Mabel's idea), plus she did goad him into this second attempt. Besides, even though Wendy would never, ever admit it to Dipper, she _DID_ actually enjoy the experience. The only thing she couldn't explain was that how was Dipper able to break her defenses like that? Wendy hadn't felt that vulnerable _in years_!

Wendy looked down at the small conqueror, "Well, kid. I guess you win! So, are we done? Can you retire your fluffy feather in peace?"

Dipper looked Wendy in her dark green eyes. Using his softest voice, he responded to Wendy's request, "Of course, Wendy..."

She released a huge sigh of relief.

Dipper continued though, "but you need to answer one question for me, first."

"Oh?" Wendy asked. "And what would that be?"

Dipper took a step closer and explained himself, "Well, I want to know, how was it that you were able to resist this the first time? What's your secret?"

Wendy, without thinking, blurted out a response, "And _if_ I refuse to talk?"

Wendy looked in horror as the devilish grin returned across Dipper's face. "Well then," he laughed, taking the feather and turning it upside-down. "We'll use this side next." he threatened, pointing at the rigid base of the quill.

Wendy dreaded her fate as Dipper walked back to the front of the stocks. She closed her eyes and nervously awaited the first stroke. As she felt the base of the feather dragging up her right foot, from the heel, all the way up the sole, against the arch, and towards the base of her toes, her hysterics started again.

Between the laughter and pleas for mercy, Wendy began to guffaw her secret:

"HAHAHAHAHAHSTOPITSTOPIT! I'LL TALK, DIPPER!

I WAS THE ONLY (_*tee-hee*_) GIRL OF AN ALL BOY FAMILY! PLEASESTOP!

I WAS CONSTANTLY _(nononotmytoes!)_ TORTURED! I HAD TO BUILD A RE-RE-RESISTANCE!

HAHHAHHAHAHAHA! STOP, DIPPER, I GIVE UP! (*_snicker_*) UNCLE! DIPPER! UN-UN-CLE!"

"Wendy..." she heard his voice coming from the side of the display. _"I'm_ not doing it..."

Upon hearing this, yet fighting her dreaded foot torture, Wendy opened her eyes to see Dipper standing on her side, still with upside down feather in hand. She looked down at him with puppy-dog eyes, "But...if you're here. What's tickling my feet?"

Dipper, somewhat worried, left Wendy's side to go back to the front of the stocks. Dipper looked in shock as he watched Wendy's bare feet flex and twitch in ticklish response without anyone torturing them. It was as if a ghost was tickling his poor crush.

In total agony, Wendy, once again, tried pleading with Dipper, "Dipper, PLEASE! PLEASE STOP! I don't care how you're doing this, but please _MAKE IT STOP NOW_!"

He ran back to the side to try to comfort Wendy, "Wendy, I swear. _It's not me_! There's no one up there!"

She couldn't believe her ears! How was this happening? Dipper seemed sincere in his responses, seemly throwing aside his playful pride. And he looked as scared as she did. But then again, what other explanation was there? Was Dipper really this cruel?

Dipper looked on in horror, totally helpless on how to help his favorite girl. In this rate, she would be tickled to death within minutes!

Suddenly, Mabel came bursting into the room, "Hey guys!" she greeted her favorite pair. "What's with all the screaming?"

Dipper grabbed Mabel, "Mabel, I need your help! I finally broke Wendy, tickle-wise, but now, she's being tortured by something I can't see. And I don't know how to help her!"

Mabel shook him back, "You see! I told you not to get started again, and now, look what happened!"

Dipper confessed, "I know! I know! But we need to help Wendy! _NOW!_"

Both twins turned towards their captive friend, who again, turned another shade of bright red. It broke Dipper to listen to Wendy's pleas for help:

"MAKE IT STOP, DIPPER!

HELP ME, PLEASE!

LET ME OUTTA HERE! PLEASE, DIPPER!"

Now, in a cruel sense of irony, Dipper had the perfect chance to be Wendy's hero in real-time, and he didn't know how to save the damsel in distress. Taking a minute to calm down, Dipper calmly analyzed the situation and quickly decided on the best course of action.

Wendy continued to cry out:

"HURRY, DIPPER! I CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS! HAHAHHHAHAHAHHAHHHAHHAHAHAHA HA!

"Mabel!" ordered Dipper. "Follow me to the side!" Mabel obediently followed her twin brother to Wendy's side.

He continued on, "Climb on my back and onto the table! Be careful not to step on Wendy!" Mabel stood on Dipper's back and landed on the wooden frame, nearly hitting Wendy's torso. She looked down at her brother for more instructions.

"Quick! Free her hands!" he ordered.

Thankfully, the wall shackles were merely open-and-close-devices without any latches or real locks. Mabel released Wendy's wrists within seconds. Wendy sighed in relief as she finally was able to let her arms down. She rubbed the raw areas where the shackles held Wendy's wrists tightly.

Meanwhile, Dipper (standing on his tip-toes) reached across Wendy's knees and unbuckled the straps that pinned her jeaned legs to the table.

Now came the hardest part.

Using the newly gained leverage, Wendy pulled her body up to that of her still stocked feet. With her now-freed hands, Wendy pulled on her ankles, hopeful that she could pull her tortured feet through the small openings. The wooden base stopped her short every single time.

At this point, the ticklish feelings in her foot bottoms increased to that of a burning, painful sensation. Wendy cried out to her friends one more time, through gritted teeth, "GUYS! PLEASE! UNLOCK THIS THING!"

She continued to pull on her legs, even arguing with the restraints: "Let...Go...Of...MY...FEET!"

Dipper and Mabel looked around to find a blunt object that they could use to break the padlock still pinning Wendy to the table.

Using rocks, both twins began to pound on the lock, hoping that it would let go of its iron grip on the stock latch. Again, it was no use. They didn't even make a mark on the shiny silver lock.

Mabel began to panic, "Dipper! What do we do?!"

Dipper looked up at the love of his life, into her green eyes, and could easily see the suffering going through her mind.

He needed to act, _now_!

Suddenly, a crazy thought popped up in his head. It probably wouldn't work, but he had to try. He couldn't leave his Wendy to suffer like this!

He ran up to her and took her hand. In a shock, Wendy looked down at him.

"Wendy, I have an idea, but I gotta get something from upstairs. I'll be right back. _I will get you outta this...I promise_."

He hated to let go of her hand and leave her like that, but this was his last chance to save her.

As he ran out the door and up the stairs, he could hear Wendy cry out, breaking his heart:

"_WAIT_! DUDE! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! _PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!_

Meanwhile, Mabel took Dipper's place at Wendy's side. She picked up Wendy's hand and began to reassure her worries:

"Don't worry, Wendy! He'll be back! Trust me, Dipper is _the last person_ who would ever want to hurt you!"

With that last comment, Wendy glared down at the bubbly pre-teen and looked into her saddened eyes. She really hoped that Mabel was right...

"WENDY!" a voice cried out.

Wendy looked up to see Dipper, blazing at full speed, nearly tripping along the way, hurrying back to her rescue. She also noticed that Dipper was carrying a golden key.

Mabel instantly recognized the huge key, "Hey! That's the President's Key Quentin Trembly awarded you with, right?

"That's right." he confirmed. "A key said to open any lock in America. Let's hope it works..."

Dipper reached up and prayed that the key would fit, finally freeing his Wendy from her prison. With a hard turn, all three heard a loud CLICK. Successful, Dipper pulled the padlock off, released the latch, and lifted the stocks off Wendy's feet.

He turned to Wendy, "WENDY! YOU'RE FRE-"

Wendy immediately hopped off the table, and pushed her way past the pre-teens. Still in bare feet, she ran out of the room, and in the distance, the twins heard the outside door open and slam.

The twins, confused, looked at each other. Mabel broke the silence, "Where do you think she went?"

Dipper looked down and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. I hope she's okay though..."

Outside, Wendy ran towards the entrance to the woods right outside the Mystery Shack. She felt her feet burn with every step. It was like the world's most athlete's foot! Wendy had an idea, but she had to make it to her destination first.

Just past the entrance of the forest, Wendy remembered that there was a small, yet clean pond. She remembered that the water there was always ice-cold, even on the hottest of summer days. Plus, the depth was at least knee-deep.

When she arrived at the cozy pond, Wendy, without hesitation, jumped feet first into the soothing water. As her soles met the muddy bottom, Wendy let out a huge sigh of relief. Wendy stood in the cooling, yet somehow healing waters, reflecting on the recent, yet awkward situation. What the heck just happened in the display room? How did it go from playful banter and teasing with Dipper, to an all-out crazy crisis? Was it just a prank that spiraled out of control?

"Nah." Wendy thought to herself. "It couldn't be; Dipper SWORE than he wasn't behind what just happened." Wendy wiggled her toes as the burning sensation simply vanished into a painful memory, when she began to notice than a milky-white residue started to form on the water's surface; it seems to be coming from underfoot. At that moment, Wendy began to recall an important factor she overlooked. "Mabel's _perfect_ pedicure!" sprang in Wendy's mind. How could it be a coincidence that Dipper couldn't get a ticklish reaction from her, Mabel offered a pedicure, puts some strange ooze on her feet, and all of a sudden, her feet are super ticklish again?

The more Wendy thought about it, the angrier she became. As it came to a head, Wendy raised her arms in air, shouting so that all of the woods were able to hear her:

"DDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKSSSSSS!"

Back at the shack, Dipper and Mabel continued to talk about their experience, they heard a massive howl come from the woods. It sent shivers down the spine of each twin.

Mabel looked with a serious look at Dipper, "What was that?!"

Dipper returned her frightened stare, "I don't know; I mean, I really _don't wanna know_..." Deep down, all Dipper worried about was Wendy's safety. Was she alright? Did something else happen to his sweetheart?

A shade of guilt hung on Dipper's mind.

Despite all of his feelings for Wendy, why was it that _every_ time he became more involved in Wendy's life, she always ended up hurt or in danger? He went with her to the abandoned Dusk2Dawn, and she was attacked by teen-hating ghosts. He asked her to a simple carnival and he ends up accidentally giving her a black eye (throughout various areas of time and space). Maybe the universe was trying to tell him something he just _didn't want to accept_...

Mabel noticed the depression rising in her brother's demeanor, and tried to raise his spirits. "Hey, turn that frown upside down!" She pointed her small digit against his cheek, literally turning his frown in a semi-smile.

Dipper didn't even notice.

Mabel, not to be ignored, grabbed her brother and stood face to face with him.

"Listen, Dipper. You may not want to hear this now, but you came through for Wendy when she needed you. That's the important thing. I know it doesn't always seem like it, but when it comes down to it, you are _always_ there for her, no matter what..."

Dipper began to show a small smile.

"And..." Mabel continued. "…if that doesn't mean anything, then, I don't-"

Mabel's inspiring speech was interrupted by a loud SLAM from the family only entrance of the Mystery Shack! The twins ran out of the room and down the hall to see Wendy standing in the doorway. Her long, red hair was matted and frizzled. Her body, from her mid-section to her still bare feet were dripping wet for some reason.

"Wendy!" Dipper shouted excitedly, running to his crush. "Are you okay?! How are you feel-"

Dipper stopped in mid-sentence when he looked up at her green eyes. She was staring daggers at the little 'hero.'

"Wendy?!" Dipper called out to her once again. Goosebumps began to spread throughout his small body.

Without saying a word, Wendy continued towards the terrified twins, making them retreat back down the hall, and into the empty room.

Wendy, still giving off a demonic, angry glare, cornered the freaked out twins in the same room where she spent the day imprisoned. Without blinking nor even taking her sights off Dipper and Mabel, she knelt to address the two, again making sure that her angered-filled eyes never left their terror-filled ones.

"Alright..." she started. "Do you two have something that you _MAY_ want to tell me?"

Dipper and Mabel, still clinging to each other in horror, glanced at each other, and then, looked back at Wendy, shaking their heads.

Dipper let go of Mabel, and tried one more time to calm his secret love, "Wendy, _please_..." he pleaded. "I don't know what happened exactly, but we didn't-"

"Oh?" Wendy interrupted the shivering child. "Let's look at the facts: Dipper gets jealous that he couldn't win '_our little game_.' Mabel offers out of the blue to give a pedicure..."

Dipper turned to give his sister a confused look. Mabel shrugged her shoulders, smiling sheepishly.

"…you put some strange liquid on my feet, and less than 10 minutes later, I'm in instant agony!" Wendy finished.

"Wait? What?!" Mabel objected, being careful not to further anger the teenager. "Wendy, I did offer, but I never actually did anything to you! The next time I saw you was when you were screaming your head off! I swear, Wendy, I didn't do anything else!"

While maintaining her peeved-off attitude, Wendy thought to herself, "What _if_ they're telling the truth?" She looked at the twins, still shaking in their boots. "But then again, what other explanation is there?"

She still felt like there was an important part of the story being left out. She figured that maybe if she pushed a bit harder, maybe they would provide the missing detail.

"Well," Wendy addressed Mabel in a grim voice, "Who else would? Or better yet, who else would _even care_?"

Mabel, unable to come up with a credible answer, merely replied with a simple, "Ummmmmm..."

Dipper, growing a bit braver, tried to reason with the angry redhead. "I dunno, Wendy," he tried to argue in defense. "A lot of strange things happen in this town. Maybe this was one of those...things?" Dipper tried to smile innocently.

"Oh, really?" Wendy questioned. "And pray tell, what mystical thing should we chalk this one up to?"

In a bind, Dipper looked around the room, trying to stall Wendy with a long "Hmmmmmmmm..." He noticed next to the pillory, the quill feather that he used to tease and torture Wendy.

"Ummm..." Dipper thought. "Maybe...magic feather?"

Wendy turned around to where Dipper's attention was. She stood up, walked over to her previous prison (which kinda gave her the shivers). She picked up the feather and walked back to where the twins stood spellbound by her behavior.

Wendy knelt back down, and presented the white fluff in front of Dipper's face. She then took it by both hands, and cracked the object in half, leaving the separated pieces fall to the floor, returning her dark stare to the twins.

This action made the twins jump!

"Wendy, please! _We didn't do it_!" Mabel begged.

"Y-Yeah, Wendy..." Dipper stuttered in fear. "I wouldn't do something so terrible because I lo-"

Dipper caught himself before he revealed his greatest secret out of fright.

Wendy noticed his change in behavior, and raised an eyebrow to it. She encouraged him to finish, "...because you _what_?"

Dipper, in great shame, looked down at the floor, unable to tell the love of his life the truth.

"Because..." he muttered. _"Just because_..."

Wendy sighed at his response. She could keep this up all night, and still not get the answer she was looking for (_or expecting_...) So, she decided to try a different method. Wendy shrunk back from the kids, and returned to her normal tone and posture.

"Alright, guys." she addressed the twins. "I would be totally lying if I said I hated pranks, and yes, however you did it, you got me; you got me _good_..."

"Wendy!" Dipper explained, "It's not true!"

She took her index finger and placed it over his lips. "SSShhhhhhh..." she gently hushed him.

"...but I want you two to know that revenge is a dish best served cold. And when you guys at least expecting it, that's when I'll STRIKE!" she exclaimed, raising her voice.

"AAHHHH!" both twins cried, again, clutching each other in fear.

Wendy stood back and walked over to her fallen trapper hat. She bent down and placed it back on top her head. Wendy then went over to her discarded boots (with socks tucked carefully inside) and clutched them in her right arm.

Wendy turned around and grabbed her tip jar with her free left hand, being at least 3/4s of the way full. She noticed that Dipper's $5 bill was on top of the pile. She began to walk out of the room, when Wendy turned around and gently taunted the twins one last time:

"Later, dorks! _Sleep tight_!" she sang, giving the frightened pre-teens a wink and a devilish smirk. Dipper and Mabel listened to the squishing sound made as Wendy walked away, leaving nothing left but a set of wet footprints...

Mabel turned to Dipper, "Out of all the weird things we've seen in this town: gnomes, lake monsters, living wax dummies, Grunkle Stan with his shirt off, _that had to be the scariest thing ever_!"

Dipper nodded in agreement, "I know, right!" he exclaimed. He lowered his head and whined, "...but this means that Wendy thinks that I did this to her..." A huge frown set upon his face.

Mabel punched his shoulder, "Don't worry!" she reassured him. "She'll figure it out! Then, she'll realize that no matter what, you've always been her '_little hero_.'"

Dipper blew off Mabel's exaggeration. "Yeah, I guess...Still, I wish I had the some sort of proof that we're innocent."

If only the brave boy knew about the ransom note sent by his arch-rival, now hidden beneath his own bed.

_If only..._


End file.
